


Whose You Are

by flibbertygigget



Category: Napoleonic Era RPF
Genre: I can't even tell anymore, Jealousy, M/M, Punishment, You can blame my sister for this, is this fluff?, pushups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of Eylau, Napoleon gives Ney a reminder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My sister is to blame for this.

Napoleon surveyed the fields of Eylau and, in the dark privacy of his secret mind, counted them all lucky. The days of the battle had been bloody and fierce, and if it hadn't been for the last-minute intervention of Marshal Ney, they would have surely been defeated. As it was, the battle had ended in a draw, with both the French and the Russians retreating to lick their wounds and prepare for their next, inevitable confrontation. Almost unconsciously, Napoleon's gaze shifted from the field to his most loyal Marshal. By God, if he had been too late...

Ney. Napoleon shied away from the warm, unfamiliar feeling the other man inspired in his breast. Ney had truly earned the moniker "The Bravest of the Brave," charging headlong into battle without care for his own station or safety. It filled Napoleon with a strange mix of pride and fear. Pride, because Ney proved his point about the superiority of the men that he had been given. Fear, because if Ney were to die, slain on the field of battle by Russian or British forces, Napoleon did not know who he would depend on.

Ney was, truly, the perfect soldier, confident, and friend. It was only natural that others should rally to his side as Ney had to Napoleon's. So why was it that when Napoleon saw Ney and Marshal Soult talking to each other he felt a hot stab of jealousy run through his chest like a rapier?

Was it the dusky half-light, rendering every feature of the men soft and almost romantic? Was it that, tired as they were, they leaned on each other, hands and eyes lingering a moment too long? Or perhaps, perhaps it was the fact that the words they spoke, though indistinct, had a low, gentle timbre and cadence that was alien to the field of battle, to everything that Napoleon knew.

"Marshal Ney," Napoleon barked, and Ney startled, eyebrows raising. Napoleon gave a small gesture, and he relished how Ney followed it, followed _him_ into the command tent that had been hastily set up.

"You wished to see me, sir?" Ney said, voice smooth and unflustered. Normally, Napoleon appreciated Ney's steadiness, but now... now he wanted to see the man nervous, wrecked with fear, fear of his commander. Or he wanted to see Ney flustered, nervous in a different way, blushing, his lips bitten red. Either way, he did not wish for the man to be _calm_.

"On the ground, soldier," Napoleon snapped. "50 pushups, now!" Ney, though exhausted from the battle, did as he was commanded without complaint. Napoleon could see his arms trembling, but Ney didn't allow his face to show any discomfort. Napoleon could change that.

Slowly, deliberately, Napoleon put one booted foot on Ney's back and pushed downward, making the exhausted marshal's arms collapse from under him. Ney looked up at him, the heat in his eyes barely restrained, and Napoleon let a hint of a smirk make its way into his mouth.

"You haven't finished yet, Ney," he said. Ney ground his teeth and, with no little difficulty, pushed himself back up again. Sweat poured from his brow as he bucked beneath Napoleon. At last he was finished, and there he lay, wrung out and seething on the hard dirt of the command tent. Napoleon went down on one knee, tipping up his lover's chin up so that their eyes met.

"Never forget whose you are," he said.

"Never, sir," Ney said before reaching up to claim Napoleon's lips.


End file.
